


Troublemaker

by electricblueninja



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Awkward Tension, Fluff, Idiots, M/M, frustrated Sungyeol, matchmaker Sungjong, oblivious Dongwoo, smut...maybe?, the choding and the dinosaur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-11 07:57:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4427540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electricblueninja/pseuds/electricblueninja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sungyeol and Dongwoo are at a stalemate. Sungjong is going to do them both a favour, and flip the damn board.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Sungyeol walked out of the change room in a dress, Dongwoo lost it. 

‘Oh come on, hyung. Get off the floor. It’s just a dress. You spent, like, a day in that wig they made you wear for Wow-man.’

Dongwoo wiped a tear from his eye and stayed on the floor, trying to recover his breath. He pushed only a couple of words out between gasps – ‘You’re not even wearing a wig, Yeollie’ – before their eyes met and Dongwoo collapsed in another fit of hysteria. 

‘That’s not the point right now! The point is that I’m in a dress!’

Another wave of laughter.

‘I – I mean the point is that it’s not _funny_!’ Sungyeol floundered, raising his voice and kicking the door jamb in frustration. 

Sungjong emerged from behind him, wearing leopard print, and Sungyeol shot him a pleading glance. ‘Can you believe this guy?’ he complained, pointing at the hysterical figure prostrate on the floor.

Sungjong cleared his throat and put on his best innocent smile. ‘You look great, hyung,’ he offered cautiously. ‘Your legs are especially nice. Did you know that I have to kiss him, Dongwoo-hyung?’ he added, poking Dongwoo with the toe of his shoe. ‘The things we do to be famous. I had to promise Myungsoo I won’t use any tongue.’

That got Dongwoo’s attention. He was bolt upright in a millisecond, staring up at them with equal measures of bewilderment and disbelief. ‘Hnnh?’

Sungyeol took Sungjong’s hand, partially as a ‘thank you’ and partially to see if he could get Dongwoo properly aggravated. Sungjong was the best at these games. His talent for genteel manipulation and intrigue was truly something to behold: so much so that Sungyeol sometimes thought he was wasted on their chivalrous, gentle Myungsoo. On the other hand, he was glad that Sungjong had Myungsoo to understand and care for him. Especially because it meant Sungjong could live peacefully, and divert his talents to the strange, problematic relationship between the choding and the dinosaur. Which, as Sungjong described it, was ‘stupidly complicated for something so simple’. (‘You’re both halfwits. You only have one whole brain when you’re together,’ Myungsoo had added unhelpfully.)

Dongwoo picked himself up off the floor, his dark eyes wide with confusion. Looking back and forward between them, his lips parted slightly, and he began to make hand gestures in lieu of speaking with words. ‘Wh – you – kiss?’ he echoed, the confusion written in the tilt of his head. ‘My…Myungs…Like, a fan thing?’ The nervousness in his voice was unexpected, and the possessive undertone became a shiver of hope that crept up Sungyeol’s spine. 

Dongwoo’s bewildered gaze slipped from Sungjong to Sungyeol, and Sungyeol found himself fighting back a sudden urge to bodycheck him and slide his tongue in between those slightly parted lips.

‘Of course!’ Sungjong assured him, glancing up at Sungyeol once more as he gave his hand a sly and blatantly obvious squeeze. The maknae’s eyes said, _See? I told you. He cares about what counts,_ and Sungyeol looked back at their hyung, hoping against hope that Sungjong was right.

‘Well, it fits, anyway,’ he said, tugging at the dress, and Sungjong took the hint, disappearing with a smile and a last quick squeeze of Sungyeol’s hand.

Dongwoo watched him go with anxious eyes before grabbing Sungyeol’s bicep and pulling him back into the change room, pushing him into a cubicle and wresting the curtains closed with considerably more force than necessary. Sungyeol lifted an eyebrow at him when he turned around again, but Dongwoo said nothing, so Sungyeol decided he might as well get on with things and reached for the zipper at the back of the dress. 

Dongwoo’s eyes dove to the carpet, and colour crept into his cheeks. 

‘Don’t,’ he muttered, without raising his gaze. 

He licked his lip. 

He was nervous. 

‘Don’t. Let me.’

Sungyeol obliged, turning around and watching Dongwoo in the mirror as the older man, eyes still downcast, unzipped the back of the dress slowly. Three fingers of his other hand trailed a shy path down Sungyeol’s spine as the skin was exposed.

A trail of goosebumps rose along Sungyeol’s arms as Dongwoo pushed the red-sequinned cloth off his back. It was strange to watch it happen in the mirror. Voyeuristic. Even though he was half of their reflection, Sungyeol began to feel as though he was intruding on something intimate. Like he shouldn’t be looking. It was invasive, somehow, to be watching Dongwoo’s downcast face: their group lion looked more like a lamb. A frightened but serious lamb. 

Sungyeol turned his face away from the front mirror, only to be confronted by the same terrifyingly intimate image from another angle, since this was a change room: it was nothing _but_ mirrors. 

He decided to look at the ground.

Cautious hands reached from behind to pull the sleeves down from his shoulders, brushing over his collar bone and the curve of his pectoral muscle. It was so, so close to becoming an embrace, and the closest they had been, alone, together, since the whole…cupboard thing. 

Sungyeol was uncomfortably aware of Dongwoo’s breath thickening, blowing hot on the skin between his shoulder blades.

He let the dress fall away from his upper body, folded double like some kind of weird skirt over his hips, and allowed Dongwoo’s hard arms to fall into a paradoxically gentle loop around his waist. Looking up again, at the mirror in front of them, he could only just see the top of Dongwoo’s head in their reflection, but his physical presence was solid and undoubtable as he rested a soft mop of dyed blonde hair on Sungyeol’s shoulder.

They didn’t move for about five minutes. Then, Dongwoo said ‘I’ll let you change’, and left.


	2. Chapter 2

‘That’s a _good_ sign,’ Sungjong told him, smoothing Sungyeol’s hair back from his face as he rested his head in the maknae’s lap. ‘Definitely a good sign.’

Sungyeol resisted an irrational urge to hide from the world under the nearest available thing, mostly because the nearest available thing was Sungjong’s tshirt and it would have been awkward. ‘I just don’t get it. I don’t understand him,’ he mumbled irritably, hiding his face in his hands instead.

Sungjong patted his hyung’s chest gently and wondered why only the jokesters of the group were so romantically inept. Everyone else already thought that they were probably sleeping together.

They would be, someday, so Sungjong hadn’t bothered to correct any misconceptions. Hell, with a little bit of help even _Sungyeol_ was finally working out that Dongwoo liked him a little bit more than most friends like each other. The only real idiot left in this scenario was Dongwoo himself, who was either deliberately or unconsciously pretending that he didn’t spend half of his life with his eyes clamped to Sungyeol’s ass, and it was making things difficult for everyone.

Still, Sungjong was not the right man to discuss that particular problem with Dongwoo. He was hoping to corner Hoya sometime in the near future and make Hoya make Dongwoo deal with it. Or maybe he should just trick Dongwoo and Sungyeol into showering together, lock the bathroom door and let them duke it out themselves.

But Sungyeol was too clever for that.

Probably.

Sungjong promised himself that he would only use that option if a month passed without any positive changes.

In the meantime, the choding was humming to himself, face in his hands on Sungjong’s lap, and Sungjong marvelled at how quickly the mighty trickster had collapsed into a goopy mess at the first suggestion of real affection from his friend. Well, ‘friend’. The terminology and the relationship needed some work, but Sungjong was game. When push came to shove, he’d shove. Them. Into each other. Where they should be. It wasn’t like Sungyeol needed much encouragement.

>>>\----------------------------------------------<<<

 

Myungsoo should have known he’d get pulled into it sooner or later. He, for one, knew what Dongwoo wanted, and also that Dongwoo wasn’t getting it, because Dongwoo didn’t have any idea how to go about it. Or maybe didn’t actually know that he wanted it. But the three of them – Sungyeol, Dongwoo, and Myungsoo – shared a bedroom, and all of Dongwoo’s staring, lingering touches, and nervous laughter were pretty good indicators. So when Sungjong took him aside and said that Dongyeol had to happen before they all went insane, he was ready and willing to help. He just regretted his room allotment a little.

For one thing, he wasn’t sure that changing their sleeping arrangements was the right way to go about it. As if the sexual tension hadn’t been bad enough before, Sungjong thought that the best course of action was to make them sleep together. In the same bed. And he thought that the best way of putting them in the same bed was to put alcohol inside of them first.

As they discussed this plan, Myungsoo thought that there were a few logistical and ethical problems with it. The biggest issue, however, was that he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to be there when the, uh, wave broke. He kept these thoughts to himself, however; partly because he didn’t want to argue with Sungjong, who looked incredibly excited about the prospect of match-making, and partly because they’d just had fantastic sex, but his jaw was aching. It had been completely worth it, but he was quite happy to let Sungjong do all the talking. His role in this conversation was simply to agree to most of what his younger lover said.

Then Woohyun came home and Myungsoo made himself scarce, taking off to the room he shared with the hapless Dongyeol.

He opened the door to a sight that suggested Sungjong’s application of alcohol was going to be unnecessary.

Dongwoo and Sungyeol were already in bed together.

Of course, Sungjong would have been dissatisfied by the fact that they were dressed (sort of) and asleep instead of naked and having enthusiastic sex, but one step at a time. He did the noble thing and went back to Sungjong’s room, leaving the two to their awkward tryst with an excuse about Dongwoo’s snoring.


	3. Chapter 3

Sleep was not something that came easily to Sungyeol. Especially not since Sungjong had taken the trouble to point out that he was attracted to their shortest hyung. They could play during the day; wrestle and pull each other’s hair and do the sorts of things that overgrown children do to express their affection. But at night, they’d go to their room to sleep, and Dongwoo would fall asleep instantly, his breathing deep and even. And sometimes he’d snore. Sungyeol would lie there, awake and unmoving, and try to deal with his own _stupid_ feelings.

Myungsoo had once told him that when he slept, he slept like a corpse, rigid and unmoving, and Sungyeol didn’t find it hard to believe. But what could he do? He wasn’t even sure he _did_ like Dongwoo _like that_. He wasn’t gay. He’d had a girlfriend. A really hot girlfriend. A long-term girlfriend who he’d always thought he’d marry until she dumped him. They’d had a lot of sex. Wholesome, heterosexual, baby-making sex. Sungyeol wanted kids, too. But every single night, Dongwoo was there, his breathing deep and even, and something deep in Sungyeol’s stomach would coil at the thought of their closeness. It wasn’t a large room. If he accidentally flung a lanky arm out towards Dongwoo, he’d be able to touch him. Which may or may not have been the reason he slept in rigor mortis.

That night, Sungyeol was already in bed when Dongwoo came back from the shower.

Of all the members, Dongwoo tended to be the most relaxed about clothing when they were at home. He seemed to think pretty much everything was optional. He’d run around in his underpants, or nothing at all, on a fairly regular basis.

Woohyun had adopted a similar practice, but for whatever reason it was fine when Woohyun did it. It was when _Dongwoo_ did it that Sungyeol felt…uncomfortable.

Or when Dongwoo came back from the shower in nothing but a towel that was not the right size to dry a man’s body. It probably wasn’t Dongwoo’s fault, because the members of Infinite used towels indiscriminately, and quite often hand towels were the only things left in the cupboard. But even if there was a legitimate excuse, it still meant that Dongwoo was basically wearing a loincloth and that Sungyeol was unable to leave anything to the imagination.

He'd seen it all before, of course, but that was not the point.

Worse still were the beads of moisture on Dongwoo’s smooth skin; they collected in the dip in his collarbone, danced down his well-muscled torso and, from beneath his modesty towel, traced long damp lines the full length of his pleasantly downy quadriceps.

‘You’re dripping on the floor,’ Sungyeol said, and averted his gaze as Dongwoo began to divest himself of his pointless piece of material. There was a _fumph_ of it being thrown unceremoniously across the room, the shuffle of cotton pulled tight over muscular legs, the _pad pad_ of the few short strides it took to come to the beds, and the sound of springs as Dongwoo’s mattress accommodated his weight.

Figuring it was safe to look back, Sungyeol swung his legs over the edge of the bed, sitting up just as Dongwoo flopped onto his back.

‘Hey, hyung,’ said Sungyeol, on impulse.

‘Yeah?’

‘Can I use your bed? Myungsoo’s going to come in in the middle of the night again, I just know it, and it wakes me up because of the squeaking.’

Dongwoo smiled ingenuously, wide-eyed and innocent. ‘Sure _, come on over, baby_ ,’ he said, in appalling broken English (why oh why was Sungyeol the only one who seemed to realise that bad English _wasn't cute_ , just bad?). Besides, Sungyeol didn't need this shit. He was having identity crisis enough without Dongwoo calling him 'baby'.

'I'm not your "baby",' he retorted, but the effect of the biting remark was probably nullified by the fact that he climbed into Dongwoo's bed and lay on his side and maybekindoftriedtolookabitinviting.

It worked, too; Dongwoo instinctively rolled over and wriggled backwards, towards Sungyeol's warmth. The long, strong, solid length of his back pressing against Sungyeol's chest; his skin was warm where it touched against Sungyeol's chest, and shoulders.

He let his bicep rest on Dongwoo's side, his hand falling naturally on Dongwoo's chest, pectoral muscle rising and falling from his fingertips with each breath.

It was too hot, but Sungyeol didn't say anything.

Dongwoo's hair was a damp, chaotic mess, but it was soft against his cheek, and the back of his neck was close to Sungyeol's lips: so close that if he moved so much as a centimetre forward, they would meet.

He was warm, and soft, and he smelt good, too; an unnameable and indescribable scent which was just kind of like safety, and home.

Sungyeol tried to steady his breathing.

He had hoped it might lessen the hammering of his heart, but it did not, because the man in his arms wriggled closer still, his firm round buttocks pressing backwards into Sungyeol's hips, like an invitation.

Sungyeol closed his eyes and thought about his grandparents, and it _did not help_.

Slowly but surely, he was getting a boner, and _not even octogenarians could save him now,_ because in ten seconds, tops, Dongwoo would notice, and-- _  
_

And then Woohyun threw the door open, and Sungyeol had never in his life experienced relief and loathing simultaneously before, as he did now.

'Guys!' the intruder whispered, so loudly it could have woken the house (or at least, everyone but a sleeping Dongwoo), 'Sungjong and Myungsoo are--oh.'

' _Woohyun_ ,' Sungyeol and Dongwoo said in unison, although in entirely different tones--Sungyeol, annoyed, and Dongwoo, concerned.

Woohyun, once Sungyeol's eyes adjusted to the light, looked...pissed off, which was the only thing that made the experience worthwhile.


End file.
